Curtis. My first love, killed by my father.
“Please, Roxana.”
The man who is currently teasing my neck with the blood-soaked tip of the knife…
… Is it really you?
“Do you know? If you flirt with that pretty face, you might be able to live.”
His lips, which had been gently curved, poured out cold sarcasm toward Roxana.
A terrible madness flashed in his clear eyes.
In his small, warm hands, a sharp sword was held as if it were one body.
Roxana looked up at him blankly, covered in blood and filth. Curtis. My father’s sins have finally come to kill me.
Camping ⛺️